Cali Boys (6 page)

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Authors: Kelli London

BOOK: Cali Boys
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Alek licked his lips, clearly thinking. “On second thought,” he began, reaching around to his back pocket. “Here.” A pen appeared in his hand, and then he took her hand. Like they were third graders, he wrote on her palm. “Take care of that, and use it. Anytime.”
Jacobi looked at her palm and smiled. His number was written in black ink in large letters.
“Hey, you! Diggs's sister?” a loud female voice asked from behind them.
Jacobi turned and the world crashed under the weight of the last person she wanted to see. “Uh ...”
“Yummy, remember?” she asked, smacking. “Your new best friend.” She turned her attention to Alek. “Hey, white boy!” she sang, clearly flirting. “You know you pushing up on your brother Malone's girl, right?” She winked at Jacobi.
Jacobi turned back to look at Alek and shrugged her shoulders. She didn't know what Yummy was talking about. She turned back to the snacking troublemaker. “Malone's what? I was only riding—”
“I thought you said you didn't have a boyfriend,” Alek said, cutting her off. Confusion covered his face.
Jacobi laughed and turned to face him. She didn't know what else to do. “I don't.”
“So you're not messing with Malone?” Alek asked, his question more of a statement than a query.
Yummy's laugh rumbled from behind, followed by a faint mechanical purr that pulled Jacobi's attention. She looked over her shoulder and almost passed out. The constant purr was coming from an idling engine—a sleek luxury car's engine that belonged to none other than Malone. He had appeared out of nowhere.
“Baby girl,” Malone yelled out the driver's side window. “I just wanted to make sure everything was good with you and that you'll do what you promised to do with my number. And I really need to holla at you about some important biz. Come talk to me for a second.” He held his hand up to Alek. “Hands off, Alek.”
Jacobi froze. She didn't know what to do or which boy to answer. She needed to tell Alek that she really didn't have a boyfriend, but she also didn't want to make Malone wait, for fear that she'd lose her shot at being a filmmaker. He was, after all, the guy who had the connections.
“Introduce me to your brother, and I'll get you out of this mess,” Yummy whispered, walking up to her with spittle and doughnut crumbs flying out of her mouth.
Jacobi turned to look at Alek but was met by the front door slamming closed, then a repetitious click of locks. Disappointment crawled through her, and she was immediately annoyed with Yummy for ruining her moment.
“So you gonna hook me up with your brother or what?” Yummy asked.
Jacobi looked at the oversized girl again. She hadn't known her brother to be prejudiced about a girl's size, but she knew he was dead set against plain sloppiness. She shook her head. “Sorry, Yummy, or whatever your name is. It ain't gonna happen. Plus”—she nodded her head toward Alissa's closed front door—“it seems my problem just cleared itself up.” She walked past Yummy and headed toward Malone's car.
Yummy wheezed as she inhaled, and her nostrils flared as she stepped in front of Jacobi. “What did you say? Did you just tell me no, heffa?”
Everything was moving so fast. Malone was waiting, Yummy was challenging her, and Shooby had just sent another text asking her whereabouts and informing her that Katydid had moved, which surprised Jacobi. It wasn't like Katydid to up and move and not tell her first. Katydid's disappearance scared Jacobi, because that meant something was wrong. Excitement, fear, and worry now shot through her veins, overshadowing the disappointment she'd felt about Alek just seconds ago. She eyed Yummy, and, scared or not, she wasn't going to back down. She knew that once a bully knew they had you, they'd always start trouble. Jacobi balled her fists and stepped up. She was getting tired of silly girls, and wondered what her parents thought was so safe about this new neighborhood. In less than an hour, she had been forced to go head-to-head with verbal assaults. “I got your heffa, all right. I said—and I
didn't
stutter—it ain't gonna happen. You are not my brother's type. And if you ever bother me again, I'll make sure you never become his type.” She sidestepped Yummy and moved quickly to an awaiting Malone.
Yummy bit her lip and nodded slowly. A weird smile spread across her face and she laughed. “You know what, Diggs's sister? I like you. At least I think I do. At least enough to warn you to stay away from Alek—he's mine. Plus, you're not scared of me. That has to be a first around here. I respect that,” she yelled.
“Malone, is that offer of a ride to the motorcycle show still good?” Jacobi asked, almost skipping toward him.
Malone walked to the passenger side of the car and held open the door for her. “Absolutely. To and from and to get a bite to eat, too, if you want, my little filmmaker.”
8
KASSIDY
H
er knees were numb and her calves were burning, but she refused to get up. Kassidy crawled the few feet to the side of the bed and lifted the ruffled bed skirt. There was nothing underneath except for a few dust bunnies. Unfolding her body slightly, she sat back on her heels, pressing her lips together in thought. There had to be something somewhere that she could use against her monster of a stepsister. Yummy's dresser drawers held only awful clothes; her closet, even worse outfits. And her room, in general, was a cesspool of what-not-to-wears and things that had collected so much dust and mold that they appeared to be science projects. Taking one last glance around the room, Kassidy couldn't think of anywhere else to check for dirt she could use against Yummy. Then her eyes landed on the juice-stained mattress. A spot she hadn't yet checked.
Ahh
, she thought, then knee-walked to her cell phone to see if Carsen had texted her back. She'd texted him almost an hour ago to see if they could reschedule, and he hadn't responded. She was growing more panicky and livid by the second. For some reason—probably her need to have several male friends to make up for not having Brent in her life—she worried that she wouldn't hear from Carsen again, and she despised her evil stepsister more with every tick of the clock. Yummy had crushed her freedom and now seemed to have demagnetized her pull on Carsen. And she couldn't have that. She needed Carsen, his motorcycle, and as many opportunities to learn about her new neighborhood and city as she could get. He was supposed to be the vehicle to help her achieve her goals. Plus, she remembered, he was cute. That was an extra bonus.
She knee-walked her way back over to the bed, deciding she'd have to deal with getting in touch with Carsen later. With all her might, she used her strength to lift the yucky mattress. Unsurprised, she found crumbs galore, and snack cake and cookie wrappers—all empty, of course. Just about to lower the Serta, she saw a small yellow sticky note on the edge of the top right corner of the box spring. She dropped the mattress, made her way to where she'd spotted the paper, pushed her fingers under the fitted sheet, and pulled out the note. She read it aloud.
“Prom Choices: Alek / white boy. Six four. Fifteen. Size twelve shoes, extralarge shirts. Single. Phone number, five-five-five-dash-eight-two-five-three ...' What does the rest of this say? Her writing sucks,” she said, straining to make out the last two numbers. “Ah, got it!” she exclaimed, then began reading the rest. Yummy had quite a list of guys she liked and wanted, and, to Kassidy's surprise, Romero's name was on the list with two stars next to it, and there was some other guy named Diggs on there. There was a row of question marks next to his name. She wondered who he was and stuck the paper into her pocket.
Satisfied that she'd finally found something she could use against Yummy, Kassidy stood, messed up what she'd cleaned up while searching through the cesspool of a room, and walked out. If Yummy wanted to play, they would play. Overtime.
Her phone vibrated in her hand just as she was closing Yummy's door, and a smile spread across her face. Romero was calling while Yummy was walking into the house.
Game time
. Kassidy rolled her eyes at a snarling Yummy.
“Romero!” Kassidy announced his name almost at the top of her lungs, happy to hear from him. Happier that she could see panic on Yummy's face. “Thank you for last night. I had so much fun.”
“Me too. What's up? Still unpacking and having family day?” he asked while chewing something.
“No. Waiting for you.”
Romero laughed, and she could hear a smile in his voice. “Cool. I'm right around the corner.”
Kassidy threw on her best sexy voice, like one she'd heard in movies. “Well, I need you to make either a left or a right, whichever's gonna get you here first and the fastest.” She hung up the phone and casually looked over her shoulder at Yummy, who stood stuck in place with her mouth open wide enough to house a small beehive. It was Kassidy's turn to snarl, then she capped the nasty look with a huge grin. “And you, Ms. Snack Queen, I'm gonna need you to stay out of my way. Company's coming, and I think he's allergic to two-legged female dogs who like to set up people for punishment,” she said, then walked toward the front door without a care in the world. As far as she was concerned, Yummy could kiss what was turned her way.
“Uh ... young lady,” her mother said, walking out of the kitchen and curling her finger in a come-here fashion. “You do know I can hear you, right? You've said nothing but bad things about Yummy starting trouble, yet you're the only one I ever hear bad-mouthing. Don't talk to her that way. Okay? You two are sisters, like it or not.”
Kassidy just nodded, startled that her mom was home and glad that she hadn't caught her in Yummy's room. If she had been caught, the punishment would've been worse than one day at home. “
Step
. We're
step
sisters.”
Her mother playfully thumped her head. “A hard head makes a soft behind. Well, as long as I'm your manager and you want to go on this interview that I just set up, you'll be whatever I say. Right?” She handed Kassidy a note with the details, then turned and winked, walking out of the room.
Kassidy followed her mother's wink and saw Yummy. She stood against the wall with crossed arms and a scowl across her face. “We ain't
step
nothing,” she whispered, loud enough for only Kassidy to hear. “Model my foot.”
Kassidy rolled her eyes. She couldn't believe that Yummy had had the nerve to eavesdrop so blatantly. She took another look at her mother's stepdaughter and reconsidered. Yes, she could believe it.
“Whatever,” Kassidy growled back. “You're just jealous.”
“Do you want the interview or not?” her mother asked, returning back to the room and pointing to the note she'd given Kassidy. “Read it.”
“Yes!” Kassidy said, looking at it and pumping her fist in the air. She kissed her mother on the cheek. The interview wasn't just any regular meeting. It was one with the best modeling agency in Los Angeles. One that could secure her a spot with big-name designers and major magazines. “Gotcha. No bad-mouthing,” she promised. She dialed Faith before she reached the screen door, and was giving her a run-down of the details before her feet touched the porch. Her phone vibrated against her ear while she was talking, and she excused herself from her conversation with Faith while she checked to see who was calling.
Unknown Caller
floated across the screen.
“God! Why do they keep calling me?” she said, putting the phone back to her ear.
“Who's calling you?” Faith asked from the other end, panic in her voice.
“Someone keeps calling anonymously. You okay?” Kassidy asked. “You sound rattled.”
Faith laughed. “Sorry. I can't help it. I kept getting strange calls, too; that's all. You know you can program your anonymous calls to go straight to voice mail,” she said, then told Kassidy how to do it.
Kassidy put her phone on speaker, then did as she was instructed. “Thanks, Faith. You've been great. So are we meeting up later?”
“I'll be here in New York until next week. Hopefully, I can track down Brent by then. I've been asking around. But no luck so far,” Faith told her.
“Okay, cool. Call me later so I can tell you all about my Cali boys. I got Romero, but he's just someone to talk to. No love there. Then there's Carsen—a fine piece of something who's taking me out on his motorcycle—”
“Did you say Larsen?” Faith interrupted.
Kassidy laughed. “No, silly. Carsen. Carsen with a
C
. He rides with this motorcycle club. He's sixteen, I think, with braids.”
“Umph,” Faith said. “I thought you said Larsen. Anyway, I gotta run. I'll call you later.” The line disconnected.
What was up with Brent?
floated through her mind a kazillion times in two seconds, and she could've kicked herself for never remembering his agent's name; and, like most people nowadays, he didn't have a landline at home, just a dedicated fax that was never turned off. She was angry at herself for losing contact with Brent. Then she reminded herself that it wasn't her fault. No one did home numbers anymore, she hadn't expected her boyfriend to come up missing, and it'd only been a few days since the move, so how was she supposed to think that far ahead? She was a model, not a psychic.
Romero had zoomed to the front of the house, killed the engine on his moped, hopped off, and was headed Kassidy's way before she reached the bottom step. His smile was as big as hers when he walked up to her with outstretched arms. “Gimme some love,” he said, as if they were a couple.
Kassidy looked over her shoulder and saw Yummy peeking out the blinds, as she knew she would. Squaring her shoulders, she turned up the sway in her walk, sashaying her way to Romero. She'd promised her mother no bad-mouthing, but she hadn't said a thing about messing with Yummy's self-confidence. It was showtime, and if she didn't know how to do anything else, she could put on an act and make all kinds of artificial emotions register on her face as if they were real. As a model, she'd perfected the art of showing emotion, or the lack thereof, for photo shoots. Today, her look said happy, loving, wanting, and
I'm yours
. “And love you'll get. I missed you,” she replied, laying it on thick and walking into his embrace. Then she shocked them all—Romero, Yummy, and herself—by giving Romero a big kiss on the lips. It was only a long peck, but it was still more than she'd planned.
For seconds she'd gotten lost in his embrace, and had momentarily forgotten that she was acting. His breath was minty and inviting from the gum he'd been chewing, she noted while her lips were pressed against his. The kiss was almost too good to pull away from, and she almost opened her lips and made it a real kiss. But she stopped herself. She couldn't fall for the first boy she met because that wouldn't leave room for her to go out and explore her other possibilities. Plus she prided herself on never getting attached or kissing someone with an open mouth, except Brent. She flirted, but didn't cheat—not completely. Lip-locking was just lip-locking, not too different from giving her grandmother a peck. Besides, to her, there was no single guy worthy of having her all to himself. None in the Cali area, anyway.
“Wow, I didn't expect that,” Romero said, licking his lips and smiling.
“Me either,” Kassidy mumbled, still perplexed by the feelings running through her. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I didn't mean to go so hard—”
“Hard?” Romero laughed, cutting her off. “Kassidy, you can go as hard as you like with me. A little tongue would've been okay, too. I don't just go around hanging out with girls all night for nothing. You may not be able to tell, but I'm not exactly easy for a girl to get. I have standards.” He laughed again.
Kassidy turned and saw heartache in Yummy's eyes, and knew without hesitation that Romero was the most important person on Yummy's list of prom choices. She didn't care how many names were on it; Romero was the one Yummy really liked.
“Excuse me?” a deep male voice asked from behind them.
“Oh my God,” Yummy muttered loud enough for all to hear. She walked down the porch steps dragging her jaw on the ground.
Romero gave Yummy a strange look, and Kassidy made a mental note of it, then turned and forgot how to speak or blink or breathe or remember. In fact, every guy she'd ever seen or talked to or flirted with or wanted, including her one and only, Brent, was erased from her short-term memory. The dude in front of her was that fine.
“Hey. You all right?” the fine guy asked, pulling her from her semicomatose state. “I'm looking for an address around here. You know where twelve forty-five is? I'm looking for this older dude's house for my pops, and can't find it.”
Romero walked over, nodding. “Nah, homie. She can't help you. She's new around here. But I gotcha,” he said, then told the guy how to reach his destination.
“Good lookin' out,” the guy said, giving Romero a pound. “I'm new around here, too. Name's Diggs.”
Kassidy nodded, understanding why Yummy's jaw was to the ground. Cali was looking more promising by the day. First, Romero had given her something to do. Then Carsen had given her something to look forward to. And now Diggs, the one from Yummy's list, the dude that she hadn't even exchanged words with yet, had given her reason to forget New York, if only for the moment.
“He's cute, huh?” Yummy asked, suddenly by her side.
For once, Kassidy had to agree. “Yep, yeah, and yes. Who is he?”
Yummy laughed, then elbowed her. “Don't know. I've never seen him before,” she lied.
Kassidy threw her a sideways glance. Yummy wasn't being truthful. Diggs's name was on the list of Yummy's prom choices, which Kassidy had in her pocket, and she was just about to pull it out to let her stepsister know she was aware of her lying. But then something happened. Diggs smiled and awoke something in Kassidy. Something that intrigued her far more than his being delectable. “I know him,” she said, sure they'd met. She didn't know when or where, but he was too familiar. She stared at Diggs, taking in his height, muscle tone, and stance. He didn't look or stand or present himself like a regular dude. As he put one foot in front of the other, making his way down the block, she knew without a doubt exactly who he was because he didn't walk like a regular guy, either. She'd been trained as a model, and she'd bet her last breath that he was a model, too.

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